


First Instalment

by MiriamKenneath



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath
Summary: And so, here he was, on a Kalevalan luxury yacht, prostrating himself before Dryden Vos, the public face of the intergalactic criminal syndicate known as Crimson Dawn.Well, he wasn’tliterallyprostrating himself. He had a bit more self-regard than that, thank you kindly, but neither he nor Vos had any illusions about which of them had the upper hand in this transaction. No, the prostration was metaphorical. That was plenty.Krennic tried to convince himself that he was glad the prostration was only metaphorical. He almost succeeded.





	First Instalment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cordica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordica/gifts).



They needed more kyber crystals, and they couldn’t be just any kyber crystals, either: They needed to be kyber crystals that had once been used to power Jedi lightsabers.

And what was so kriffing special about _them_ , you might ask? It had something or other to do with known crystalline matrix capacities and learned piezoelectric resonances…or at least that was what Galen Erso had told him.

Orson Krennic had nodded and smiled and stroked his chin and gamely pretended to understand more than one-tenth of Galen’s esoteric blather. Truth be told, he understood far less than one-tenth of any of it, but what he _did_ understand was sufficient: Without more kyber crystals of the requisite variety, Project Stardust’s progress had ground to an abrupt and indefinite halt.

Moreover, and worse, sourcing additional supply lines was not straightforward, not even for a man of Krennic’s not inconsiderable rank in the Imperial Navy. The Empire had established monopolies over all known planetary sources of raw kyber, and all extant supplies of legitimately traded weapons-grade kyber were tightly regulated.

Krennic knew that putting in a new requisition order for additional supplies of kyber crystals would draw unwelcome attention from his critics – powerful critics with the favour of Emperor Palpatine, critics like Governor Tarkin and Lord Vader. These critics would paint Project Stardust as a monumental waste of time and resources; oh, and yes, the Director ought to be deemed surplus to requirements as well.

Alas, Krennic did not currently enjoy the Emperor’s favour. Attention at this stage from the powers that be was something he could ill afford.

And so, here he was, on a Kalevalan luxury yacht, prostrating himself before Dryden Vos, the public face of the intergalactic criminal syndicate known as Crimson Dawn.

Well, he wasn’t _literally_ prostrating himself. He had a bit more self-regard than that, thank you kindly, but neither he nor Vos had any illusions about which of them had the upper hand in this transaction. No, the prostration was metaphorical. That was plenty.

Krennic tried to convince himself that he was glad the prostration was only metaphorical. He almost succeeded.

‘Jedi lightsabers were bespoke devices, constructed by and for their intended wielders exclusively. Each lightsaber is one of a kind and highly prized in the relevant underground markets,’ Vos was saying. ‘Not even I have been fortunate enough to come into the possession of one.’

Krennic’s eyebrows lifted at that admission. They were surrounded on all sides by priceless antiquities: He recognised a Godoan dancing goddess idol, a Mytag crystal masthead and a near-complete set of Old Republic-era ancient Mandalorian rally master armor. His sources had assured him that Dryden Vos was the one to speak to in this matter. Had they been mistaken?

‘Further, most known Jedi lost their lives during the execution of Order 66 at the close of the Clone Wars, and their lightsabers would have been taken into the possession of Republic – later Imperial – authority at that time,’ Vos continued, pacing the floor, his back turned and seemingly oblivious to Krennic’s burgeoning concerns. ‘The lightsabers currently on the market represent only a tiny fraction of the tiny fraction of Jedi which escaped justice. Counterfeits abound. The genuine article does not, needless to say, come cheaply.’

Ah, _now_ Krennic understood what Vos was getting at. This was a negotiation. ‘Price is no object…provided that the weapon is still fully operational,’ he informed Vos shortly. He had not seen fit to mention that it was not the lightsabers per se but rather the kyber crystals within them that he desired, but he saw no reason why Vos need know that. ‘How many can you procure?’

‘Subject to verification? Between eight to twelve units.’

Eight to twelve? He’d thought, at best, Vos might be able to source two or three. This was much better than Krennic had expected! ‘Excellent. Most excellent, indeed! Please progress the transactions at your earliest convenience.’

‘I will notify my intermediaries. Of course, it goes without saying that the transactions will be entirely confidential and untraceable.’

‘Of course,’ Krennic echoed.

Vos’s pacing came to an abrupt halt, but he made no further move to initiate contact with his aforementioned ‘intermediaries’. Instead, he approached Krennic, got right up into his personal space, and – a seemingly deliberate provocation – looked him up and down appraisingly.

It made Krennic feel like _he_ were the merchandise on sale. He forced himself not to flinch away and to hold Vos’s gaze with his own. The glint of madness he perceived in those poisonous blue eyes made Krennic’s insides quiver. Vos’s volatility and penchant for violence were legendary, and Krennic believed the tales.

‘There remains the question of… _payment_.’ Vos’s voice had gone suddenly hot and heavy.

If not for the pattern of striations on his face, Vos could easily be mistaken for full human, and even so, he was a very attractive man. Cross-species relations were frowned upon – and outright illegal in some sectors – but that just made the prospect all the more exciting. Let’s face it; the forbidden was always more exciting.

‘Price is no object. I already told y-you…’ _Kriff!_ What a time to stutter! Krennic cleared his throat loudly, trying to cover for the attack of nerves, and loosened his collar.

Vos stepped closer to Krennic, practically close enough for their chests to touch, so close that he could feel the inhuman heat radiating off of Vos’s body. He placed his right hand on Krennic’s bared throat, the pad of his thumb – and its wickedly sharp, definitively inhuman talon – stroking Krennic’s bobbing Adam’s apple with anticlockwise circular motions. A jolt of terrified delight at his own vulnerability thrilled through him.

‘Excellent. Payment may be made in regular instalments. However, I expect you to render the first… _instalment_ …immediately,’ Vos whispered.

Krennic had _felt_ more than heard those words, and now they were settling somewhere in the vicinity of his groin. What Vos was expecting of him was obvious. His collar wasn’t the only part of his uniform that had become uncomfortably tight. Krennic gulped, nodded and followed Vos out of his study and into adjacent private living quarters.

The bed was gilded. It was actually _gilded_.

The most relevant part of Krennic was already standing stiff and proud, but he did go a bit weak-kneed when he saw Vos without clothing – by the Maker, that…that… _appendage_ between his legs would never be mistaken for full human!

Every indignity he endured would be worth it when the Death Star was finally operational, Krennic told himself as he climbed into the gilded bed. Then, he’d be vindicated.

But in the meantime, he planned to enjoy this immensely.

 

* * *

_**-fin-** _


End file.
